


Maladies to the Heart

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: Neville is celebrating the one-year anniversary of owning his Holistic Maladies business, but a miscalculation of ingredients may lead to him making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.





	Maladies to the Heart

When Neville approached his shoppe on the corner of Carkitt Market and Diagon Alley that early Monday morning, he had a hop in his step.  He felt the shiver of magic as the wards surrounding the once dilapidated building recognized and released in his presence.

Today was the one-year anniversary of the official opening of Neville’s business.  He smiled brightly as he stared at the letters spelling out Alice’s Holistic Maladies, which rested above the entrance door.

The building was previously empty, long discarded during the various raids and Death Eater infiltration before the end of the war.  He had spent the entire spring of the previous year dutifully stripping the hardwood floors, painting fresh coats on the walls, and installing the many rows of shelves that would hold his tools, potions and plants needed for his profession.

It wasn’t until Neville discovered the healing powers of combining Mimbulus Mimbletonia’s Stinksap with Moondew that he fell in love with holistic treatments.  The sap, which had been highly disregarded due to its strong smell, mutated the Moondew, increasing the qualities usually used to revive from a Sleeping Draught.  The new combination, when crushed into a paste, could be combined with standard herbal teas.  Neville had been providing his mother and father with the teas for six months, watching closely as the effects took place. 

He considered the potion a success, on the blissful day when Alice Longbottom stared clearly into his eyes, and whispered, “Neville bear.”

Swooping his mother into a hug, they both clung to each other, tears cascading freely down their overjoyed faces. His father’s recovery had been slower, but even in the past few months, he had begun to tell stories of their time in the Order.  He didn’t recognize Neville yet, not like his mother, but he at least could clearly remember the past.  They still resided at the Hospital but Neville was hopeful they would return to the comfort of their own home soon.

It was after he heard his mother’s beautiful pet name for her beloved son that Neville decided to open his own Holistic Apothecary.  He yearned to find treatments that didn’t rely heavily on the Magical Creature population, or on rare, irreplaceable ingredients.  He had already found strong alternatives for Dragon Blood and his paper on exchanging Horned Toad for Umbrella Flower had been published in the Daily Prophet.

The Magical community was hesitant at first; it was easy to rely on the potions and cures that St. Mungos provided, to trust the Healers that had high N.E.W.T. scores and years of training.  Neville was grateful to the Hospital, grateful to the wizards that delivered babies, and healed wounds.  They had watched dutifully over his parents for years, trying everything they could to bring back the family he should have had.

After the first couple of months, however, the patrons had started to arrive.  Neville had been able to provide holistic remedies for wizards and witches addicted to Dreamless Sleep, which provided him a steady influx of customers during the first half of the year.  His shoppe now expanded to maladies for localized burns, small infections, and unusual rashes, all with his plants and sustainable ingredients.  He had made a name for himself, and a name for his mother and her successful rehabilitation. 

Neville magicked the lights, changing the cardboard sign from Closed to Open as he walked through the door.  He checked the stocked shelves, before caring for the numerous plants lining the walls.  A tinkling chime from the front door notified him of the arrival of his first customer.

“Mrs. Birnbaum, so nice of you to stop by,” he greeted.  He gathered up the ingredients for her weekly Magi-Me-More.  They exchanged pleasantries before his customer departed to complete the rest of her errands in Diagon Alley.

The rest of the day proceeded quickly, with various customers stopping by and picking up their weekly or monthly creams and powders.  As Neville was showing an older Wizard the exact process of boiling Hellebore root with cloves, the chime on his front door let out a tiny jingle.

Neville looked up, watching the door swing open and a dark-haired wizard step inside.

“Harry!” Neville smiled.  He hadn’t seen his friend in months; Harry had been on mission in Seville, chasing a particularly dark wizard who was expected of selling cursed artifacts to unsuspecting Muggles.

Harry held the door as the older customer exited, before greeting his friend with a hug.

“Thought I’d swing by, take you to get some ice cream?” Harry asked, looking around the now empty shoppe.

“Sure,” Neville answered, checking his watch.  It was close to his afternoon tea break anyway. He watered the few pots sitting on the counter before switching his sign from Open to Returning Soon and spelled back up the wards.

The walk to Floreans was peaceful, and Neville relished the feeling of the warm summer air.  He ordered a cup of Sticky Toffee Pudding and wasn’t surprised when Harry ordered a double scoop of Chocolate Chili.  He had seen Harry eat the spiciest things throughout their time at Hogwarts, barely flinching when the Weasleys snuck him a Squealing Sriracha Sucker.  Neville had just tried one lick and had to gulp down three glasses of milk before the burning sensation subsided.

What did surprise Neville, however, was the tiny candle that Harry pulled out of his pocket.  He placed it gingerly into the sticky pudding before lighting the wick with his wand.

“Congratulations, Neville!” Harry said after viewing the confusion in his eyes.  “One year!  I knew Alice’s would be a hit!”

Neville felt his heart twinge a little as he blew out the candle, smiling widely at Harry.

“You remembered!” Neville grinned, thinking back to this date last year; his friends had all gathered as he cut the ribbon, opening the doors to his own shoppe for the first time.  Harry himself had made the first purchase, a case of holistic Wide-eye potion without the Billywig or Snake Fangs.  Harry said the potion was a life-saver on the all-night raids he was often called on.  It had quickly become a big seller among the Aurors.

“Of course, I did,” Harry smiled fondly, his eyes resting softly on Neville’s.   

Neville tried to force the flush down that was currently rising in his cheeks.  He couldn’t help but feel warm and tingly when Harry looked at him.

He had harbored a crush on his mate since their battle at the Department of Mysteries, when Harry had fought so courageously against Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy just to protect Neville.  It was one of the bravest things he had ever seen, and the bravest thing anyone had ever done for him.

He knew his crush was just that, though; a crush that sometimes felt so small he could pretend it didn’t exist.  Other times it seemed to weigh on him, so heavy on his heart that he felt like he couldn’t breathe.  This was one of those moments, as he sat, watching Harry steal a spoonful of his pudding, a tiny dribble of toffee escaping his bottom lip.  

Neville currently felt like he filled with concrete, and Harry was the chisel.  Maybe a jackhammer, Neville’s mind wandered to Harry, pistoning in and out above him, the dirty thought flushing his cheeks even further. 

“Neville?” Harry asked, adjusting cautiously in his seat.

Neville snapped back to the present, to the piercing green eyes across from him.

“Hmm?” he stammered, exhaling quickly as he tried to catch his breath.  He thanked Merlin that the table was hiding his growing erection.

“Friday?” Harry asked, repeating the last words of a question Neville had missed.

“Friday,” Neville nodded, wracking his brain for missing words.  

“Great!” Harry smiled, a wave of relief flooding his face.  He stood quickly, discarding his rubbish in a nearby bin.  “I’ll see you then!”

“Yeah,” Neville sighed, rubbing the back of his head, not quite sure what he had just agreed to.  “Erm- see you then.”

_Bollocks._

 

\--

 

The next couple of days flew by in a haze of bulrush as Neville continued to concoct his herbal cures.  Students were preparing for the return to school, and the entirety of Diagon was abuzz with new wizards brandishing fresh wands, and parents sorting through lengthy lists.  

Seeing all of the young witches and wizards reminded him fondly of his first trip to Hogwarts.  He had lost his toad, Trevor, almost immediately on the train, and had stumbled rather gracelessly from car to car searching for his beloved pet.  It was then that he met Harry, the boy he had heard about his entire childhood, sitting eagerly in the train car.  His mind wandered to those green eyes, the shaggy hair, that wicked cute smile as Harry greeted him for the first time.  He licked his bottom lip, lost in thought before he heard an impatient tapping on his counter.

He pushed back his thoughts, focusing once more on his customers, two seven-years who were purchasing bottles of Draught of Peace, likely preparing for their hectic year of N.E.W.T.S.  Neville checked the clock, breathing a sigh of relief that the day was almost over.  He hurried the students quickly out the door, flipping the sign to Closed.  He was anxious to grab a cup of tea and return to his daydreams.  His mouth turned upwards as he thought about opening a bottle of red and letting his mind wander back to that Monday, that little bit of toffee on the perfect face of -  

“Harry?”

Neville blinked, staring through the window of his shoppe as the brunette stood, arms braced against the glass on the other side.

He quickly reopened the wards, before ushering the wizard in.

It was definitely Harry Potter, taking a seat on the stool near the counter.  Something was off, though, more than the surprise visit after closing time.  Neville’s eyes swept up and down the built frame of the Auror before narrowing in on his right shoulder.

“It’s a scrape,” Harry panted, clearly in pain.  “Mungo’s couldn’t.  I know it’s late, but do you think you could try?”

“Of course,” he nodded quickly.  Neville’s throat felt tight as he examined the cut.  Red patches spotting his arm were the least of his concern; it was the black sludge that was peering out from the sleeve of his shirt that sent Neville’s mind racing.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to sound confident to ease the concern written across Harry’s face.

“Redcap,” Harry exhaled sharply as Neville collected a sample of the sludge into a vial.  “Scraped me right through my robes.”

Neville walked over to his shelf, before pulling out his old copy of the Monster Book of Monsters, careful to stroke the spine as he released it from its neighboring books.

“Redcap, huh?” he murmured, quickly thumbing through the pages until he reached the R’s.  “Back in Scotland?  Was the castle close to Hogwarts?”  His fingers ran over the words, looking for anything that would lead to the dark pus he was currently seeing.  He was trying to keep his voice calm, distracting Harry with memories of his time at the grand school.

“Ten kilometers, maybe?” Harry grunted, clearly trying to hide the pain that was surely surging through his veins.

Redcaps usually only attack the dead, feeding on their blood, Neville rapidly read.  He surmised that the man in front of him was in fact, not dead, but it could be that the redcap recognized the small part of Potter that had died during the war.  If that was the case-

Neville pulled plants from his shelves, crushing captured leaves into a thick powder.  The organic supplements that he used in his Noxious Potion, as well as the root of asphodel, should reverse the blood fungus that had currently nested itself into his veins.  He hoped the dash of Shatavari would provide beneficial in sealing the wounds around Harry’s heart.

He bunched up the sleeve, careful not to rub against the damaged skin.  He could tell, however, that the cut ventured farther, down into the depths of his shirt.

“I, erm, need to take off your shirt,” Neville said, his face growing hot as he heard the shakiness in his voice.  He clenched his fists.  You’re a fucking professional for Merlin’s sake, Neville scolded himself.  Now was not the time to allow his lust for Harry to get in the way of medical treatment.

Harry nodded, his eyes flashing something before returning to their previous state of agony.

Neville shook his hands vigorously, trying to remove the trembling he knew was resting in his fingers, before quickly unbuttoning the thin shirt from Harry’s body.  Harry lowered his arms, allowing Neville to carefully remove one sleeve, and then the other, before resting his eyes on Harry’s chest.

An audible gasp escaped Neville’s lips before he even realized it was happening.

Neville had seen Harry shirtless before; they had shared a room after all.  However, Neville was confident the last time he gazed at the tanned skin there was not a large gash pulsing with dark liquid, oozing down his stomach and dripping carelessly onto the floor.

“This is hardly a scrape, Harry,” Neville grimaced, taking a dollop of cream from the bowl and warming it roughly in his hands.

How he did it, Neville could not know, but Harry released a chuckle despite the pain riveting across his chest.  Neville pursed his lips in a quick grin.  Harry always did have a high pain tolerance, as well as a habit of downplaying his injuries.  

"This is going to hurt a little,” he muttered through clenched teeth before his hands contacted the tender skin.

A sizzling sound erupted on contact as Harry hissed, biting down on his lower lip to avoid the scream that was surely building in his throat.  Neville swallowed harshly, his eyes begging apologies as he continued to roam the affected wound.

He was relieved when harsh bubbles returned to soft skin over hard muscles as his hands maneuvered over Harry’s chest.  He worked his fingers quickly and carefully over the largest swell, where the talon must have made the first incision.  Harry released a whimper as the sizzling increased, causing Neville to wince.  He grabbed Harry’s hand with one of his own, squeezing lightly to comfort the brave man in front of him.

Harry squeezed back, his grip firm as Neville continued to work his hands up to his shoulder.  He felt Harry’s ragged breathing begin to steady as he reached the final edge, sealing the cut with a final sizzle of the cream and his hand.

Neville smiled softly at the sight of Harry, his head tilted back, eyes closed in relief as the pain subsided.  Grabbing his wand, Neville cast a quick cleaning charm on his bare chest and the spotted floor.  He exhaled in relief as the black sludge cleared away, almost as if it hadn’t existed in the first place.

It was then and only then that Neville realized he was still holding Harry’s hand.  His face flushed as he went to withdraw, but the hand wrapped around his only held on tighter.

Neville’s confused eyes locked with Harry’s, and his stomach quivered in what he saw.  Harry’s eyes were burning, sizzling with heat much like Neville’s hand had just been.  Neville gasped in surprise as he felt the hand jerk him forward, his foot catching beneath him as he fell towards the naked chest.

Harry winced slightly as Neville’s body collided with his still tender chest, his chin falling gracelessly along his left shoulder.

Neville cursed, his face hot with embarrassment. Clumsy Neville, he chastened himself as he went to pull off his friend.

“ _Stay_ ,” he heard, hot breath filling his ear as Harry’s hand wrapped securely around his elbow.  He could feel the cool wire of Harry’s glasses pressed against his cheek as his thumb ran cautiously over Neville’s hand.

Neville stiffened.  Had his potion caused this?  He didn’t think the Shatavari would have the same effect as it did on the Amortentia love potion, but his calculations could have been off.  They must have been off; the Harry he knew had never, not once, made Neville feel like he wanted him, wanted this.

Harry wasn’t even bent; let alone was he into blokes like Neville who were clumsy and forgetful, and apparently rubbish at measurements.  Even as he felt warm hands skate his firm chest, lowering further.  Even as he felt the warm tongue lap against his earlobe, teeth grazing his lower jaw.  Even as he felt the hardened flesh pressed firmly against his side. 

“Harry,” Neville’s voice trembled waringly as he felt the searching hands now securely on his back, dragging him closer to the now healed chest.  He could feel Harry’s heart pounding, his breath panting in quick bursts as the rough pads of his thumbs rolled circles over the sharp dimples in Neville’s back.  He bucked instinctually when those same thumbs breached the hem of his trousers, rubbing lower and lower, the circles growing insistent as Harry released a low groan.

 _No!_ Neville screamed inside his head.  His mind was racing; he wanted Harry to continue, more than anything he wanted those hands to continue their journey.  He wanted them to unbuckle his belt, to reach down below, to press his nimble fingers and open Harry up, for his thick cock to fill him, fill him so tightly that he wouldn’t know where he ended and Neville began.

He also knew, he knew in his core, that this was the potion.  This couldn’t be what Harry wanted, and to do this, to allow his friend to do this without his full and honest consent…well, Neville didn’t want to look back on his first time with Harry, his first time with anyone, as one that was not completely reciprocal.

“ _No.  No._   **_NO_** ,” he panicked, his voice screaming louder than he had expected the words to erupt, as Harry’s hand ghosted quickly over Neville’s clear want, the clear need hidden behind the light fabric of his trousers.

Harry instantly withdrew his hands at the harsh words.  He sat back immediately, his face red with heat and embarrassment, his arms pushed abruptly to his sides.  Neville took the opportunity to step back, one step, then another for good measure.

His eyes scraped the floor as Harry grabbed his shirt, throwing it haphazardly on, not bothering with the buttons.  He paused, staring at Neville, before he collected his wand and escaped out the front door.

As he heard the bell tingle, Neville grasped quickly onto the now empty stool, throwing his head down as his heart pulsed.  Shame ran over him in waves.

“What have I done?” he mumbled, as he forced his breath to regain its usual tempo.  Grabbing the bowl of solvent off the counter, Neville threw the potion at the wall, shattering it to pieces.  It wasn’t like him to be so careless when he mixed ingredients.  It must have been the fact that Harry sat, just a meter away, half-naked that had caused the distracted calculations.  And now, he had no idea how he would ever look his friend in the eye again.

He cast off the lights, spelling the wards up once more before he turned to his flat upstairs.  He would deal with this mess in the morning.

\--

What a mess it was.

Neville scoured the room, picking up pieces of dismantled pottery and dripping potion as he set to repair the damage he had made to his shoppe.  Luckily the healing potion hadn’t caused an adverse reaction to any of his healing plants.  He still spritzed the touched leaves, ensuring that the last of the potion was washed away from the green leaves.

He wished today was Sunday, so he could tuck in for the morning and avoid the settling embarrassment for one more day.  As it was, however, only Thursday, and with Hogwarts back in session the following Monday, Neville knew he couldn’t avoid opening his doors.

With the quick swish of his wand, the sign moved again from Closed to Open, signaling his popular shoppe was now open for business.  He knew the day would be busy, but he hadn’t expected the quick rapt, rapt, rapt on his door the second the sign switched.

Neville sighed heavily, looking to see if a gaggle of customers were unable to open the sometimes-sticky door.  Instead, he saw a brawny owl, his beak hitting the thick glass impatiently, demanding entry on this weary morning.

Begrudgingly, Neville pushed open the door, watching curiously as the owl swept quickly inside and teeter carefully on the side of one of his pots.  He grabbed a handful of boysenberries, offering a trade to the brown owl before procuring the tightly wound letter from its talons.

A flush of heat rose from the back of his neck as he recognized the Potter seal on the edge of the creamy-white parchment.  With anxious hands, Neville tore apart the seam and began to read the letter.

 

 _Nev,_

_I apologize for my hasty actions last evening._

_I do hope this will not impede our arrangements for tomorrow?_

_I look forward to seeing you at the Leaky, 7 o’clock_

_H_

 

Neville read the letter, as short as it was, again and again.  Hasty actions?  It wasn’t hasty; it was the potion that had caused the heated moment, the ragged breath, the, erm, desire that he had felt from Harry.  And yet, Neville was the one receiving the apology letter?  He pulled a quill from below the counter, and wrote a quick and equally short response.

 

_H,_

_Course not.  See you tomorrow._

_Nev_

 

Well, at least he knew where to bloody show up.  

He assumed he’d be meeting up for supper with their old classmates.  It had been a while since he’d seen Ron and Hermione, and even though Luna didn’t mention the restaurant when he saw her last week, it wasn’t unlike her to skip over minute details like upcoming plans when she was wrapped up in her latest article research.  He wondered if Ginny would be there; it had been months since she and Harry had officially called it quits. 

Busying himself with wiping off the counter, now sticky with boysenberry, Neville tried to focus on seeing all his friends the next evening.  Their presence might make seeing Harry again just the slightest bit less awkward.

 

\--

 

The only thing more awkward than seeing Harry, surrounded by his friends, was seeing Harry, at a table for two, waiting by himself.

Neville approached cautiously, searching the bar for any other faces he might recognize.

“Am I here early?” he asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the empty chair. 

Harry looked slightly perplexed before he smiled. “Right on time.  Just glad you came.”  He motioned a wave to the barkeep.

A tall blonde woman that Neville recognized from their years at school hurried over, carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine. 

“Thanks Hannah,” Harry uttered before smiling shyly at Neville.  “Hope you don’t mind I picked out a bottle.  I know you like red.”

“Erm, yeah,” Neville swallowed heavily as the red wine poured into his glass.  He gave Hannah a soft smile, which she returned with a sly wink.

“Have fun you two,” she smiled before returning to the bar. 

_Us two.  Only us two – There’s no way this is a –_

“Thanks again, for coming tonight, Nev.  I was afraid you wouldn’t, especially after my behavior the other night.”  Harry mumbled, before drinking in some liquid courage. 

Neville blushed.  He coughed before he began to mumble, “Well, the Shatav-“

“I can’t believe I almost bottled it,” Harry grinned, not even realizing he was interrupting.  “It took me so long to get the guts to ask you out in the first place,” Harry chuckled, his face reddening almost as much as his house colors.

Neville sat back in his chair, flummoxed. The words he had misplaced last week came to him in snippets.  _Leaky, just you and me, date Friday night?_

He examined the table, noticing the flickering candle resting between them for the first time.  He noticed the tie that Harry was wearing, too, a soft green that made his eyes sparkle.  A little too fancy for an ordinary night out at the Leaky.  Could this really be a…date?

“Why?” Neville blurted, waiting to wake up from this weirdly realistic dream.

“Why the Leaky?”  Harry asked.  “Well, Hannah keeps out most of the journalists, and I thought you’d feel more comfortable here than – “

“Not why the Leaky,” Neville barked.  He wasn’t sure why his voice was coming across so angrily, or why his hands were shaking or why he could feel his eyes growing heavy with tears.  He breathed in deep, exhaling slowly. 

“Why me,” he stated blandly, happy that his voice was now at a reasonable volume for the suddenly quiet bar. 

Harry locked his piercing eyes on Neville, his eyebrow quirking up slightly in surprise.  Suddenly, he leaned in, placing his hand invitingly on the table. 

“I fancy you,” he said, as if it was the simplest question he ever had to answer. 

Neville’s mouth turned into a frown, despite these words being something he’d want to hear for such a long time.  His head raced, thinking of moments over the last year, over the last several, where he might have done something to make Harry _fancy_ him.

Harry recoiled his hand slightly, his face turning puzzled as Neville’s look turned angry.

“I – I thought you fancied me, too,” Harry mumbled, his eyes dropping to his half-empty wine glass.  He took another gulp.

Both men sat in silence as Harry finished his glass, avoiding looking at the bloke across the table from himself.  He reached for the wine to pour himself another. 

As he touched the neck of the bottle, Neville’s hand shot out, grasping Harry’s into his own.

“Of course, I fancy you,” Neville choked.  “You’re bloody fit, and thoughtful, and you fucking saved my life.  More than once.”

A wave of relief flooded Harry’s face as he smiled brightly, taking Neville’s hand into his and rubbing soft circles into his skin.

Neville still stared with gritted teeth. 

Hannah reappeared next to the table.  “Take your orders?” she asked, before focusing on Neville’s hard stare.  Harry smiled sweetly at her, still holding Neville’s hand in his. 

“Just a sec?”

Hannah nodded, topping their glasses off before she retreated once again. 

Harry lifted his glass, clinking it softly to Neville’s, which still sat securely and untouched on the table.

“You’re pretty fit, too, Nev,” Harry crooned, his eyes darkening as he scaled them down to Neville’s chest, before returning them slowly to his slackened jaw.

“You’re also smart, and brave, and you’ve saved me too,” Harry licked his lips.  “More than once as well, I might add.”

Neville allowed himself to think back on his proudest moment; wielding the sword of Gryffindor high above his head before severing the head off that blasted snake.  He smiled to himself.  He had been brave, once.  More than once.

“So – last night when you,” Neville tried to drum up his inner courage and finally made eye contact with the green eyes he liked so much.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned broadly, his Gryffindor confidence radiating from every core.  Neville was envious how easy it was for the Chosen One (the official one, anyway) to always know what he wanted and to go get it.  He felt a pool of desire begin to build low in his stomach when he realized, actually accepted, that he was the one that Harry wanted, and by the look in his eyes, he was going to get what he wanted.

Neville adjusted the growing bulge in his trousers.  Merlin, he wouldn’t be able to make it through dinner if Harry kept staring at him like that.

“How’s your chest?” Neville’s voice came out high-pitched.  He hadn’t meant it to sound so loud and so…sexual.

Harry chuckled, leaning forward across the table.  “You said it was fit, right?” he winked. 

_Bloody hell._

“I mean, how’s the, erm, scar?”

“I wouldn’t mind another examination, if that’s what you’re asking, Healer Neville,” Harry’s voice growled low, his eyes sparkling from the glint of the candle. 

Suddenly the Leaky Cauldron seemed too loud, too crowded, too boisterous for what was happening at their tiny table in the back corner. 

Neville took in a deep breath.  He was a Gryffindor, too, after all, and if any moment demanded his bravery, it was certainly this one. 

“We could go back to mine, if you want me to take another look?”  Neville’s face flushed, but his voice…Neville didn’t even know his voice could sound so silky smooth.

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush.  “You sure, Nev?”

“Yes.  I’m sure,” he responded, more sure of anything he had been in his life.

Harry smashed some Galleons on the table and waved goodbye to Hannah.  She smirked before nodding, as the two men headed out the door.

 

\--

 

All the confidence Neville had once held at the bar quicky Apparated with them as Harry and Neville entered his flat.    He instantly walked to where he was most comfortable, pulling various leaves off of the plants that lined his counters and collecting them in one of his many bowls. 

He crunched the leaves hastily before mixing them with aloe to create a salve.  When he turned back to face Harry, he was startled to see the man had made himself comfortable on his couch.  Shirtless.

_Right._

Harry had been over to Neville’s flat dozens of times.  He’d even seen Harry shirtless on this very couch, after a quick game of two-on-two Quidditch that had been interrupted by a billowing storm. 

This Harry, however, wasn’t dripping wet from the passing rain.  This Harry seemed to be dripping with desire. 

He approached Harry like a timid deer, his hand trembling as he dipped it into the newly mixed cream.  Neville bit his lower lip, as he allowed himself the opportunity to finally look at the naked chest in front of him. He took his time, examining the dip in Harry’s collarbones, the hardened pectoral muscles from his training as an Auror.  He licked his lips as his eyes cascaded downward, towards the taut chest covered with just a bit of darkened hair, springing this way and that as it did on his head.

Neville could make out the faint outlines of the incision as it bolted from Harry’s right arm jaggedly across his chest.  He started there, at the top of the scar, slowly rubbing soft circles into Harry with nimble fingers. 

He felt Harry jerk slightly when the cold salve made contact. Eyes darting quickly to the left, Neville’s heart raced as he saw the passion hooded in Harry’s eyes.  He adjusted his touch, working his way across Harry’s chest, as he watched the man arch his head back, blissful for the cooling cream on his sensitive skin. 

When his hands pushed lower, rubbing large circles into Harry’s abdomen, he felt a hand reach out and grasp his wrist. 

Harry held Neville’s hand close to his skin.  Neville could feel his heart pounding, his stomach heaving in and out below his shaking hands.  Harry’s eyes were imploring, as he asked, “Is this alright?”

Neville gathered all the bravery he had, as much as he had on the day he killed that bloody snake, and kissed Harry Potter.

It was if the entire collection of Weasley Wizard Wheezes Fireworks had gone off, shooting into the air and exploding around the pair as Neville’s lips pressed firmly against Harry’s.  Harry’s hand remained firmly on Neville’s wrist as he guided his arm to wrap low around his back. 

A deep groan escaped Neville’s throat as he felt Harry’s tongue begin to explore his mouth, pushing gently at his open lips before adventuring against his own.  His tongue wasn’t the only thing that began its exploration of Neville.  Rough hands began to cascade against Neville’s back, yanking the hem of his shirt upwards as they searched for bare skin.  Their kiss broke, and then immediately resumed as the fabric was whipped over Neville’s face. 

It’s not as if Neville had never snogged before; it had been tight quarters in the Room of Requirement during sixth year.  Snogging, even the occasional grind or two had been a way to relieve stress.  Neville had viewed it as a way to connect, to reassure one another that no matter what was happening outside those doors, they could be safe in this shelter. 

Still, the actual act of sex alluded him.  After that year, after the castle was destroyed, Neville had thrown himself into repairing the wounds of the war.  That began with his parents, and he hadn’t stopped since.  He hadn’t really had the need, outside of a few quick wanks in the shower, usually envisioning the man whose hands were now sliding down his sides. 

He shuddered as Harry nibbled on his bottom lip, his mouth trailing down to his jaw and resting just below his ear.  He sucked gently as Neville keened, tilting his head back to allow Harry better access.

It was too much, and yet not enough, feeling Harry’s bites along the hollow of his throat, feeling his hands roaming over his chest, venturing lower and lower down his stomach.

Neville gasped as he felt Harry’s hands paw against his hardened erection. 

“Hell, Neville, you feel so big. I can’t wait to get this inside of me,” Harry grunted, his lips now heady over Neville’s ear. 

“Er,” Neville stiffened.  Harry’s hands stilled, hovering slightly over his cock.  His eyes searched Neville’s imploringly, as he took register of the fear that rested there. 

“I’ve – it’s just I haven’t – “ Neville mumbled, his eyes venturing to the hands that rested cautiously on his trousers. 

Harry’s lips quirked upward into a soft smile.

“Have you?” Neville enquired.  He knew about Harry’s quick romance with Ginny after the war, but had never heard Harry talk of any bloke, not in a romantic way at least.

“Loads of times,” Harry said, noticing Neville’s embarrassed wince.  “I mean, not with loads of men.  Just one man, several times.”

“Who?”

It was Harry’s turn to stumble into embarrassment.  “Malfoy, actually.”

“WHAT?” Neville blubbered.   He knew that Draco was an Auror too, knew that they often went on cases together, knew that he’d sometimes spot them clinking drinks at the bar.

“It’s been over, for a while actually,” Harry smiled faintly, his hand rubbing his scar.  “Too much bickering.”

Neville grimaced.  An image of Harry, bent over the edge of a sofa while Draco pummeled into him, made Neville’s jealousy rage. 

“Do you want to?” Harry questioned, the words barely escaping his lips before Neville pressed his mouth in again.

Neville kissed Harry hungrily, so different from the soft ministrations of earlier.  He wanted Harry to feel his passion, his want for this man.  Courage was easier to find in this position as he grabbed Harry’s hand, pushing it into his desire again.

“ _Yes,_ ” he breathed heavily against Harry’s mouth. “Just show me how.”

Harry let out a guttural groan as Neville’s hands ventured down his front, tugging hard against his belt before releasing it from the loops.  He stood, shaking off his trousers, before removing his pants completely.

Neville swallowed quickly as he stared at the hardened flesh bobbing in front of him.  He only had a moment to admire Harry’s cock before the brunette was pushing him down on the sofa, undoing his trousers as Neville’s head hit the cushions.

His mouth was everywhere, kissing Neville’s jaw before moving swiftly downward.  He took one nipple into his teeth, biting swiftly before rubbing over the sensitive nub with his tongue.  He repeated the quick movements on his other nipple before dragging his tongue down over Neville’s chest. 

While his stomach didn’t ripple with hardened muscles the same way Harry’s did, Neville knew his chest was toned from his days in the garden, tilling the dirt, tending to his many plants.  He felt heady kisses venture across his stomach, as Harry’s hands unbuckled his own belt.  Neville cantered his hips slightly, allowing Harry to pull his trousers off as well. 

Harry adjusted Neville into a sitting position as he knelt between his legs.  Neville watched, heart panting quickly in his chest as Harry mouthed his cock through the thin layer of his pants. 

Harry lowered the fabric slightly, allowing just the tip of Neville’s cock to peak out before brought his mouth too it, swirling his tongue expertly against the slit.

Neville bucked uncontrollably against Harry’s lips, as his hands pawed off the remainder of his covering.  Harry grinned widely, like he was unwrapping a present on his birthday when he saw Neville’s cock fully unsheathed from the fabric.

“Mmmm” he groaned before taking the length quickly into his mouth.  Neville cantered at the wet heat that now surrounded his too-long neglected manhood.

Harry’s hands held Neville’s hips steadily as his tongue worked steadily, swirled up and down Neville’s shaft.  He jutted his head up and down, making loud slurping noises as he sucked heavily, his cheeks contracting hard against the thick cock in his mouth.

Neville had never felt anything so raw, so blissful in his life.  It was as if his entire apex of desire rested between his legs, contained in the wet, thrumming throat.  He felt Harry groan deeply again, the vibrations shooting up Neville’s shaft, directly into his spine as his hips jerked off the sofa. 

When Harry slipped one hand down to cradle the sensitive sac below the base of his cock, Neville couldn’t contain his movements any longer. 

“Harry,” he grunted, his hips pushing rapidly against the sofa into the sweet heat of Harry’s mouth.  “I’m, I’m going to cum if you don’t stop!”

Instead of pulling off, as Neville expected, Harry took him even farther down his throat.  His tongue flattening against the base as he continued to suck hard, hands cantered, pulling roughly against his bollocks. He looked quickly down at the lustrous green eyes, hooded and staring directly at him.  He winked, his lips pulled tight around Neville’s girth.  That wink was his undoing.

Neville came, pleasure coursing through his body as his cock spurted hot down the warm, wet throat.  He grunted loudly, hands ranking through the raven hair he had admired from afar for so long.  Harry continued his ministrations as Neville jerked through his orgasm, swallowing ever drop that Neville had to offer.  He pulled off with a delightful _pop_ as he felt the body above him relax back into the worn sofa.

Neville sat back against the cushions, sated, but embarrassed.  He had blown his load early, crushing his hopes of maybe, possibly, finally, have sex with the man he had always wanted _._

And he lost all his control.  On a bloody blow job. 

 _Merlin’s beard._  

\--

Neville was mortified as he shoved his head in his hands, staring angrily down at his flaccid cock. 

He felt a cleaning spell wash over him, removing all traces of his early eruption.  He felt Harry place soft kisses, starting at his ankles before they worked their way up his calves. 

“It’ll be better, Nev, now that you got that out of your system,” Harry smiled broadly, as his mouth moved heatedly over his thighs.  His nose stilled over the apex of his sex, breathing in deeply.  Neville’s cock twitched in appreciation.

Desire pooled deep in his stomach as he realized he hadn’t just blown his shot.  In fact, it seemed like Harry was just getting started with his plans for the evening.

Harry crawled into Neville’s lap, straddling his hips.  Neville gasped as he was able to see, finally take a moment to admire, Harry’s full arousal.  Harry’s prick was slightly shorter than Neville’s, and not quite as thick.  His pink tip was dribbling with pre-cum as Neville ran his hand cautiously against the length.  Neville licked his lips tantalizingly, wanting to know what those drops tasted like, wanting to know what that course hair on the base of his cock would feel like against his lips. 

Harry adjusted, lining up his hard cock with Neville’s growing erection, and began a slow grind with his hips.  The dry rut was doing wonders to his prick, providing enough friction to harden once more.  Harry grinned, biting his lower lip in anticipation.

“Think that cream’ll be ok?” Harry asked, tilting his head towards the discarded bowl as he continued to rut against Neville.

"Erm, for what?”  Neville asked, unable to concentrate on the words when Harry’s cock felt so good pressed up against his own.

Harry laughed as he climbed off.  He repositioned himself, knees on the cushions, draped over the arm of the sofa. 

“I want you to open me up, Nev,” Harry said seductively, his head turning to the side so Neville could see the desire that glistened in his green eyes.

If Neville hadn’t just come, he would have just now.  Watching Harry spreading his arse, displaying himself for Neville’s pleasure would have sent him over the edge for sure.

Even as it was, it took Neville a moment to fully realize what Harry wanted him to do.  Harry wandlessly Accio-ed the bowl, settling it directly over Neville’s cock on his lap before it clicked. 

“Just one finger, to start,” Harry muttered, his voice low.

“Right,” Neville replied shakily, as he dipped his fingers into the salve.  Making sure the tips were fully covered with the white cream, he extended a timid finger towards the pucker that Harry had on display.

He gulped, still a little unable to believe that this was really happening.  He hadn’t done this before, not even to himself, and _Merlin’s beard_ he really didn’t want to ponce it up. 

Neville tentatively ran his first finger down the center of Harry’s arse, before he circled around the fluttering hole.  The skin felt so incredibly soft as he pressed inward.

Harry groaned, his hips pressing backward into Neville’s finger as he breached the tight rim.  Neville sucked in a breath, unable to believe the sight of his thick fingers entering Harry in such a _personal_ way.  And that Harry was enjoying it so much.

In fact, after only a few strokes of Neville’s finger, Harry was begging. 

“One more, Nev, one more finger, now, please, it feels so good.”

Neville pulled back his hand, hearing another moan from Harry due to the sudden emptiness before he coated his fingers once more.

He felt more confident this time as his fingers searched imploringly for entrance.  Both fingers slid in easily up to the knuckles, Harry pushing back onto Neville’s hand as he spewed sweet words.

“Yes, love, just like that, your hands, so good, I knew they would feel so good. _Ugnhh,_ ” Harry’s body shuddered as Neville began to move his fingers in scissoring motions.  He felt his middle finger graze against a slight bulge that caused Harry to buck forcefully against the sofa.

“Right there, yes, Neville, oh yes,” Harry praised as Neville rubbed the tender spot once more.  His eyebrows were folded in concentration as he tried to memorize that spot, it’s location his most valuable concern if it made Harry sound like that.

“Three fingers, love.  One more and then,” Harry’s voice was cut off by a grunt as Neville pressed a third finger into the now loosening hole.  His own cock was rock hard as he watched his fingers enter and disappear deep into Harry’s arse.  It was the most beautiful thing he had seen since he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor off the dirty castle floor.  Neville palmed his own erection, yearning for what was hopefully still to come.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Harry voiced before he untangled himself from the cushions.  Grabbing the remaining salve off Neville’s lap, Harry took a large dollop and began to spread it along Neville’s prick.

Harry’s eyes were hooded as he watched his hand repeatedly cover, then unveil, the darkened tip, pressing into his glans as he coated Neville’s cock with the cool cream.  He picked up Neville’s legs and adjusted him so he was laying with his back along the couch.  Harry then reached around and added a couple of pillows behind Neville’s head, lifting his neck up to a comfortable position.

“Figured you might want to watch,” Harry shrugged, placing a rough kiss against Neville’s lips. 

The next thing he did took Neville’s breath right out of him.

Harry straddled his cock, holding it steady as he slowly lowered himself down.

If he thought the heat of Harry’s mouth had felt amazing, it was honestly nothing compared to this.

The tip of his cock pushed hard against Harry’s rim before the pucker released enough to allow entry.  Neville gripped the side of the sofa, trying with everything he had not to buck his hips, allowing the tightness to slowly surround his needy prick.

Harry lowered gently, his calves shaking from the pressure, this mouth shaped in a perfect ‘O’ as he lowered himself on Neville’s groin.  Neville’s head arched backward, the pleasure of everything that was happening rippling underneath his skin, but he couldn’t remove his gaze from those eyes.

His green eyes had remained stilled on Neville’s the entire time he had taken his cock.  His pupils were dilated, almost completely black with a halo of green as he watched, watched Neville get properly fucked for the first time. 

Only once Harry’s arse was fully seated against the tops of Neville’s thighs, did Neville exhale, blowing heated air quickly out of his throat as he moaned.  Harry closed his eyes, as if wanting to save that sound in his mind forever. 

Shifting to the balls of his feet, Harry began to rock.  He swayed slowly at first, much like branches on a warm, summers day.  Neville watched his hips as they gallantly rolled, his cock twitching as it slid softly over Neville’s chest.  A small purr escaped Harry’s throat.  Neville wanted to hear it again, wanted to hear what other sounds Harry could make with that beautiful throat of his.

"Is this ok, Neville?" Harry asked, his voice tentative.

Neville shifted, lifting his head to stare at the gorgeous man on his cock.  His mouth split into a grin as he watched Harry grind slowly above him.

" _Yes,_ Harry, it's what I've always wanted." 

Neville abruptly lifted his hands, grasping Harry on either side and started to grind his hips upwards, plunging his cock deep into Harry’s arse before pulling it back out again.  Harry braced himself, two hands against Neville’s chest, as he lifted himself, encouraged by Neville’s sudden participation.

Neville continued to frot, jutting his hips up, sheathing into Harry at a frantic pace.  It felt so good, the cold from the room when he pulled out just to return to the blazing tight heat that encompassed Harry.

He licked his lips and watched, pupils blown, as Harry grabbed his own cock, rubbing his still-slick thumb across his slit, before coating the rest of his cock with the remnants of the salve.  He pumped eagerly, watching as Neville unfurled below him, chasing his impending orgasm. 

“Yes, fuck me, Neville, fuck me hard,” Harry panted, his hand jerking steadily against his own cock as Neville pumped his arse from below. 

Neville bit down hard on his lip.  There was no way he would lose it again, not until Harry came.   His fingers pressed into the hard skin of Harry’s waist.  He closed his eyes, unable to watch the man bouncing on his cock, as Neville’s mind tried to focus on the ingredients for a Bruise-Healing Paste.  _Three tablespoons of arnica herb, two comfrey leaves…_

He was only on ingredient number five when he felt Harry still above him.  His lashes fluttered open as he saw Harry tilt his head back in pleasure, his hips jutting quickly as he came. 

Neville watched heatedly as white ropes of his orgasm coated Harry’s chest, in the same location that had been covered in black sludge just days before.  Neville continued to pulse into his arse, feeling Harry’s muscles clench against him, holding his prick tight.  He followed, _thank Merlin_ he followed, chasing Harry’s orgasm with his second of the night.

Falling forward, Harry pressed his chest against Neville’s, feeling the effects of his pleasure slide against his skin.  Neville wrapped his arms tightly around him, lavishing in the feel of sweat and sex for the first time.   

He hoped with everything he had that it would not be the last time. 

It might not even be the last time of the evening if Harry’s soft nibbling of Neville’s jaw had anything to do with it. 

~Fin

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but my love for these boys. It's my first Neville/Harry pairing, so any feedback/comments would be so awesomely appreciated!
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/keyflight790)


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